“8 is just an infinity symbol the right way up.”

“What did he say? You can't always pick your friends. Well, he's damn right there. I have two friends here: a fifteen year old who sees people in colours and a salsa-mad Dutch woman. I didn't pick them, they just turned up in my life, and I'm really glad.”

“I let myself feel good for no reason. I let joy happen right there and then, and it's inside me and around me, it's the lights on the road ahead, the clean black of the night, the cold air coming through the window. It's like hearing a song for the first time and being struck by it, haunted by it, wanting to hunt it down and catch it, because the song sums up something you didn't know you wanted to say, giving you chills and goose bumps. But even as you find out what it's called, and you're thinking you'll download it, you've already lost. Because the feeling was right then and there and it's already fading like a dream.You just have to see those times for what they are: a chance to look down at your life. And when you do, you see it's a skin made up of shiny little moments.”

“I stare at his forearms. I can make out a naked woman with a snake going up her vagina. She’s holding a knife, slitting her own throat. There are three playing cards on the back of his right hand: the Queen of Spades, the Jack of Hearts and the Joker. Red flames lick his elbow.There’s a watch tattooed on his left wrist with ‘Fuck Time’ inscribed on its face. Fuck o’clock.He’s not that tall, but his body is carefully cut. The lines of his face, his cheekbones and jaw, are sharp and precise. I can see the tufts of his blond underarm hairs and under them the ladder of his ribs. He’s beautiful, in the way that a knife is beautiful.”

“It’s not love. It’s an obsession. And it’s not art. It’s a way of seeing things. A way to see the things that aren’t there.”

“He’s still singing to himself, eyes closed, pretending, I think, that I’m someone else.I shout in his ear again. ‘So you can’t just lay down and die?’He doesn’t open his eyes, but he nods. ‘You can’t just lay down and die”

“Shame isn't a quiet grey cloud, shame is a drowning man who claws his way on top of you, scratching and tearing your skin, pushing you under the surface.”